Page 38 of The Drummer

“You’re a-a…” He can’t finish the insult, so he twists out of my arms instead.

He almost goes down, and it takes every bit of strength I have to haul him back up.

At least he’s conscious. That’s a good sign.

We finally make it to the bathroom, and I slip into autopilot for the rest. It’s the only way I can deal with this shit.

“I hate you,” he growls as I wrestle him to the floor by thetoilet, positioning myself on the cold tile directly behind him to keep him upright.

“Yeah, I know.”

“No, really. You?—”

I turn my head for the retching. God, I despise this part so much. My own stomach is thick with nausea, but we’ve just begun.

Luke slumps back, weak and covered in sweat. I lock him against me so he doesn’t fall to the floor. His labored breaths quiver against my chest.

“I’m… a dick,” he mumbles.

“Not now, Luke.”

“No! I am. I-I love you. You… you’re my brother. I don’t deserve you.”

I clench my eyes shut as emotion builds in my throat.

Fuck, I can’t do this.

“Case? You know I love you, right?”

I can’t I can’t I can’t…

“Tell me you know that!”

“Yeah, man. I know.”

You love me enough to cut yourself out of my life. To make me wonder if a stupid party was an excuse to cut yourself out of living entirely.

Apparently it wasn’t, but that’s a question I’m going to have to carry at every pass.

In the doorway, Callie chews on one of her nails. I can only imagine what she’s thinking through all of this. I hate that she has to see it, but maybe it’s for the best. You want to love Luke Craven? This is what it means.

He lurches forward again, and I lean back to give him space.

When he finishes, I catch him once more.

I don’t know how long this goes on. It feels like hours. Maybe it is. In some ways, it’s a lifetime.

When we finally reach the point where the first round ofpurging seems complete, I ask Callie for a wet cloth to clean him up. Then, we combine forces to get the patient back to bed.

I grab a water bottle and hold it to his lips.

“Here, drink this.”

Luke swats at the bottle. “I don’t want it.”

“Drink it, you idiot.” I tip the bottle as I prop his head up with my other arm.

His curses roll off me, along with the water dribbling from his mouth to his chest.

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